Hit List
by airwolf addict
Summary: Story 28. Someone is out to get the Hawkes - all of them - that much is for sure. But who? And why?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"Yes, I see. Parent conference? Is that really necessary? No, no, I don't want that… Ok, I'll be there." Saint John dropped the phone onto the kitchen counter and ran a hand through is hair as he let out a frustrated sigh. So this is what Dom had to deal with when he took in String and I, he thought, only he had two of us to deal with… How in the world did he survive? he wondered in amazement.

Parent - teacher conference right after school gets out he mentally added to his already full schedule. And there was that movie scene he was supposed to be flying later in the afternoon, with the conference he'd really be pushing it, then. "Oh crap," he muttered aloud. "I totally forgot Mike was supposed to be coming over tonight." And he still had to pick up Joshua from his friend's house before nine. So much for resting a few minutes. He picked up the phone again and dialed Mike. The phone rang and rang until at the last the answering machine picked up.

"Hey Mike, it's Saint John. I'm gonna have to cancel tonight; some things came up and I can't really get out of them. Sorry. Maybe we can get together later in the week." The machine cut him off before he go further into detail. Probably just as well, he though to himself, I'd just ramble on and waste more time I don't have.

Digging for the keys lost somewhere in the depths of his pocket, he started out the door for Le's school.

\A/

Le van Hawke shook long black fringe out of his eyes then decided it would probably get on the dean's nerve and shook it right back. Tapping one foot impatiently, he waited on his father to show up for this 'important meeting'; that was nothing more than someone trying to get him expelled, not like that'd bother him all that much; he was tired of this school anyway. Unfortunately, no one else seemed to feel the same way. He could probably sneak out with the rest of the fast disappearing crowd of children, but that's get him in even more trouble once he got home. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he dropped into the chair outside the office and lounged across the one next to it, taking up both seats.

"Want to explain what this is all about?" the upside down version of his father asked, more a demand than question.

"Not really," Le declined, "I'd rather just go home."

"It isn't really optional," Saint John said irritably.

He knew he would have gotten the same kind of answer if he'd asked String a similar question, that was if he managed to get anything more than a silent scowl, heck, as a kid _he had _given a very similar answer when he was younger. That made it even more difficult to get mad at him, but there had to be some reason he was called here for a conference, and that reason needed to be addressed.

"Mr. Hawke, would you please follow me into my office," the dean requested.

"Hey, nah-on. I'm coming too," Le objected.

"You-"

"_I _didn't do anything," he interrupted," and it's not fair to lie to my dad when it isn't my fault without getting both sides of the story."

"I'm not trying to exclude anyone's side of the story, but my office is very small and I'm afraid it would be too crowded. Besides, the kid you beat up isn't here to tell his side of the story either. He had to go home early with what is likely a broken arm."

"It's not broke! I could have told him that much when he started screaming, and it's your-"

"Mr. Hawke, please, my office."

"Where you there when the fight started?" Saint John asked outright.

"No, but I was there by the time it ended, and I saw quite enough. And this wouldn't be the first time your son has started trouble."

"Obviously there are still a few misunderstandings that need to be worked out, and if there isn't room to discuss this in the privacy of your office, we can continue to discuss it right here."

The now visibly irritated dean muttered a "fine, we'll do it your way," through clenched teeth and motioned for Saint John to sit down.

"Le, why don't you go get Mr. Peterson a chair," Saint John requested. "It looks like we could be here for a while."

"He has caused trouble before. Matthew hasn't and has shown very little tendency to be incline that way. He's a straight A student, gets along well with all the teachers and hasn't gotten into trouble of any kind until his run-in with your son today."

"You sound a little prejudicial."

"That's because he is," Le interjected, returning with the chair. "Matt is his son."

"And he doesn't like being called Matt."

"And I don't like being blamed for something I didn't do. Sorry Mr. Petersson, but I don't even particularly like your son. I didn't start a fight with him though. If I were going to start one, it would be with someone who could at least hold his own, not him. Burt Parker started it, over something stupid too like a missing book or something like that. Burt threw the first punch and I stepped in when Matt couldn't hold his own."

\A/

Saint John ruffled the Amerasian boy's hair and half laughed to himself. "Good job Le, but I wouldn't suggest counting on that to work again."

"It was the truth."

"I don't doubt that, but you've got to be careful about getting caught. Oh well, guess it just goes to prove you really are a Hawke. Don't try to use that as an excuse either though because I won't let that one slide. I even tried that one with Dom once.

"String and I had gotten in a tussle with some other kids because they were making fun of his name; now that was something they should have known not to do I though. I could pick on him, but no one else was allowed to, you know, a kind of brother's privilege. Anyway, I didn't want them to hurt him so I stepped in and decided to help. Well, you know String, and he said he didn't need my help. He had gotten into it on his own and he was the one going to finish it. I'm not sure exactly how it all happened, but something started trying to pick at me next, 'for leaving the little brother to do the dirty work' and String wasn't the only one with a fight on his hands. Of course, we won, but the principal didn't seem to want to share in the victory and we both landed in detention. When Dom came to pick us up and find out what the hell was going on, I tried to tell him I thought it was hereditary or something - Hawke boys just seem to get into trouble a lot. He didn't buy it for a second though. But then again, maybe that's just because he isn't a Hawke…"


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

**10:30 pm**

**The Cabin**

"Cait, you may be right. If he isn't better by morning we might need to take him to the doctor." Much as he hated to say it, Chance was sick. Really sick.

The lethargic toddler just laid on the sofa, head against him, showing no interest in the food he typically liked to play in, or in anything for that matter. He wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and had spent most of the night awake fussing the last couple days and still didn't seem any better.

"Go ahead to bed, Cait. I'll stay up with him."

"No, you stayed up last night, it's my turn."

Her husband shook his head silently. "You're tired, I'll be alright. Besides, if I moved now I'd disturb him, and I think he might finally be getting a little bit of rest."

How could she argue with that? She was exhausted, and she knew it showed, and he did look to be sleeping a little more peacefully now. Hawke would probably fall asleep before too long anyway and just sleep there for the night. "Alright," she conceded at last. "Do you want me to get you anything before I go up?"

"Nah, just leave the kitchen light on if you don't mind and I should be good."

"Fair enough." She leaned over to give him a brief kiss before going up stairs. " `Night."

"Goodnight Cait."

\A/

Stroking soft blond locks of baby fine hair, Hawke listened to the constant ticking of the clock on the mantle and watched the rising and falling of the toddler's chest nearly perfect in rhythm with it. Almost two hours, he thought to himself, that was a new record for how long he'd slept straight through the most he'd slept since he had gotten sick, maybe things weren't quite as bad as they seemed. Shifting, Chance rolled over toward the edge of the sofa, resting still for a moment, then he sat up, coughing and rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Daddy?"

"Shh… Daddy's here, daddy's here."

"Thirsty."

He handed him the sippy cup off the table which Chance took readily but then shook up and down. "Empty."

"Want some more?"

"More pease," Chance requested.

"You hold tight a minute and I'll get you some more."

"No leave, Daddy," he coughed again then held out his arms.

Hawke picked him up and carried him to the kitchen, setting him on the counter and pouring another cup of juice then handing it back to him. "Good now?"

He nodded.

String picked him up once more and carried him back to the living room, settling him on the sofa again. "Get some sleep, buddy."

\A/

**8:00 am**

**The Following Morning**

**The Cabin**

Caitlin pulled on her shirt and continued down the stairs, seeing Hawke lounged across the couch, Chance laying against his chest.

"Hey sleepy head," Caitlin greeted, laying a hand on his shoulder, "sleep well?"

"Not too badly." He offered her a slight smile. "I think Chance was feeling a bit better too."

"That's good. Still planning on taking him to the doctor?"

"Yeah, I guess I should."

"I'll take him then while you go get ready."

"Let him sleep a few more minutes; it was pretty late by the time we actually fell asleep."

"Ok, in that case, I'll work on breakfast and come for him a little later."

\A/

**8:15 am**

**Saint John's Apartment**

Saint John, still dressed in only pajama bottoms, pulled the front door open, sleepily greeting his unexpected visitor.

"Mike? So you do occasionally get up before four in the afternoon. This is news to me."

"Only on special occasions," he grinned wryly, "unfortunately none of my commanding officers seem inclined that way, but seriously, this has to be a short visit. I just thought I'd say goodbye before I leave."

"When are you coming back, and do you have any rabid animals that might attack me anytime I decide to come over and make myself at home?"

"It wasn't rabid. I don't think it was anyway. And that was my neighbor's dog I was just watching for the week. I wouldn't suggest you making yourself at home though, have a feeling the landlord wouldn't appreciate that much."

"Well I don't think Ms. Witherspoon or whatever her name was like either of us much anyway, and eve less so when we were together."

"Then you don't have a whole lot of reason for going over there then. I'm leaving for good, at the very least a while. I've been reassigned overseas to the base in Afghanistan, leaving in a couple hours."

"I wish you the best. Anything I can do to help?"

Not unless you can have the president change my orders. I'm told these came from the top so there's no getting out of it this time."

\A/

**8:45 am**

**The Cabin**

"Cait, forget breakfast, get the chopper started!"

"What's-"

"Just do it now!"

He picked up the heaving toddler and carried him out to the waiting helicopter on the dock, climbing into the back.

"Fly towards Foxridge," he instructed as he tried to settle the child. "And get them on the radio."

"Foxridge Medical Center," the voice over the radio crackled a moment later.

"This is Stringfellow Hawke. I'm bringing in a three and a half year olf child by helicopter. He's been running a fever the last couple days that suddenly spiked; he's throwing up and shaking pretty badly, breathing quick and shallow…."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

**Knightsbridge**

**10:45 am**

Michael flipped through the files on his desk with disinterest. Maybe he let the Deputy Director title go to his head, he though soberly as he looked through the stack yet again, or maybe Kara, new head of the Committee, was just trying to keep him occupied and out of her business. But it was all still busy work, things that would require more work to complete than the benefit that would be gained from doing it. Maybe it had its place, but not on his desk. There were too many mercenaries and too much political unrest in the world for him to get stuck with a possibility of a potential embezzler in a small organization that in some way in the past had worked for the FIRM back before even the Airwolf project had begun. It was simply too far fetched and far too trivial in the grand scheme of things for him to have to be worrying about. And speaking of the Airwolf project, he had better work on coming up with some reasons it was necessary so they didn't end it altogether. The whole Committee had been pretty adamant lately that they thought it was no longer necessary, and especially under the current circumstances. To them, Stringfellow Hawke was too impractical and unpredictable, not a carbon copy of their ideal company man and therefore not right for the job. Granted, he wasn't your average agent, and _technically_ he was holding a top secret piece of military hardware hostage from his own government, but in all fairness, if he was willing to take that chance it was probably better for everyone that way. With what happened in Libya, he knew there was no way the government would ever allow the FIRM to utilize Airwolf's abilities, and even he had to rethink how great of an idea building an entire fleet of them would be. Even then there would be the issue of finding trustworthy pilots good enough to fly them. It may not be everything they had hoped for, but Hawke really was the only way to go. Now all he had to do was convince the rest of the Committee of that.

\A/

"We feel that the Airwolf project is no longer conducive to our needs here at the FIRM and believe it would be b in all of our best interests to turn it completely over to the Department of Defense."

"I disagree. If we relinquish total control, we loose it completely and all the benefits it brings."

"But we can't use these benefits while Hawke has control of it," another committee member joined in. "I vote we cut all funding to the project and Hawke will no longer be able to afford the costs of maintaining it and will ultimately be forced to give it up."

"Or better yet, we simply bring Hawke in and demand he tell us where he has it hidden."

"What if he doesn't talk?"

"We have ways of making people talk. Besides, he could be brought up on charges for the theft and suspicion of treason. He'll be behind bars the rest of his life, if not worse."

"It won't get you anywhere," Archangel warned, resisting the urge to just walk out of the room; that would only make his job more difficult he knew though otherwise he would have done it long ago. "In my dealings with him I've come to realize this if nothing else - Hawke is a very capable and talented pilot, and he and Airwolf make a nearly unstoppable force, but once he gets an idea into his head nothing will stop him from achieving it.

"Your best hope it to convince him that you and he are on the same team and give him some incentive to want to work for you. In the long run, that would be far better than trying to find a suitable replacement anyway."

\A/

With a doctor at the head of the team and a handful of nurses at his die, the medical personnel efficiently unloaded the currently convulsing child, positioning him on the gurney and disappearing beyond the elevator doors.

"What happened?" Caitlin asked as she tried to put the pieces together. "He was fine when I went to fix breakfast then…"

"I didn't realize he was running such a high fever until he rolled over. He was burning up, then just started throwing up, fussing, shaking… I should have realized something was wrong earlier, taken him to the doctor yesterday, something."

"Or maybe if you hadn't been pulling a triple shift while I slept."

"Cait, it's not your fault you were tired, and I was the one who volunteered for it."

She shook her head, knowing blaming themselves or each other would help. "I don't know; maybe we both could have done better, but for now let's get inside and see what the doctors say."

\A/

**11:02 am**

**Santini Air**

"Dom, I still can't reach them."

"Maybe Michael wanted them for something?"

"Already tried there too. From what I heard it's chaos over there. Marella has been reassigned to station in France and Michael has been in a Committee meeting all morning, evidently battling it out with them over funding for the Airwolf program. Samantha said she hasn't seen any of them though."

"Any ideas where they might be then? It's not like String to not show up when he's supposed to be here, and he was scheduled to be the one flying the scene at the studio."

"He could be suffering from some long lasting side effects from the last mission. He was taking a little longer to fully recover and he sounded pretty tired when I talked to him yesterday. How about I fly the scene then if I still can't get them on the radio, I'll fly out to the cabin and see what's going on."

\A/

"It looks like a viral infection, something reasonably rare, but probably copeable. He just caught a real nasty strand of it."

"But he's ok?"

"He still has a fever, although we have been able to get it to go down some, and with your permission would like to give him some preventative medicines while his immune system is still weak to hopefully avoid and more of the seizures and some of the vomiting. But other than that, we pretty much have to let it run its course."

Both parents nodded.

"I also take it he hasn't been eating very well the last couple days?"

"Hasn't been able to keep much down."

"I suspected so. He was also a little dehydrated so we've hooked him up to an IV. Afraid I can't say he's the happiest, but he seems to be ok at the moment."

"Where is he now?"

"A nurse is settling him in a room down the hall, 317, but since he is still contagious I want to limit his visitors to immediate family and you need to have masks and gown as well as wash before and after visiting."

"Alright. Can we see him now?"

"Give it five minute or so for the nurse to finish then someone would be glad to show you proper washing procedures so you can go in."

\A/

The Jet Ranger spun, rocking back and forth as smoke plumed from the tail, and the director was loving every second of it. It came spiraling down, appearing out of control as more supposed gunfire continued to spray across the fuselage.

"Keep it up!" the director yelled into the radio, his voice ringing through the headset so loudly Saint John ripped it off. He pulled back in the stick, but the helicopter continued to dive, tail swinging around in a tight circle. "Beautiful!" he could hear the director shout through the headset even from its new position on the seat beside him.

"Not beautiful, about to be a disaster, " Saint John muttered aloud as he continued to wrestle the controls, real smoke now coming from the back end of the Jet Ranger.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The tips of the rotors barely missing the trees, Saint John managed to pull out just in time. Letting the momentum carry him for a brief moment, he pulled up on the collective, cutting power to the engines and setting the Jet Ranger down in the grass.

"That was brilliant!" the director praised, seemingly oblivious to the fact the whole tail rotor was scorched and that had been far from acting. "It was perfect."

"Well it ought to have been because you can kiss any ideas you might have of Santini Air working for you again goodbye. I did a thorough flight check before lift off and that bird was in perfect condition. As you can see, or should be able to, it's not, and it was no accident. Somebody, someone on your lot, was deliberately trying to take me down and that isn't something I take lightly."

"Calm down already. There's no reason to be making rash decisions, and you look fine to me now."

"Physically, I'm perfectly fine, this time. And there won't be a next time."

\A/

Two hours later the damaged Santini air helicopter had been trailered back to the hangar and Saint John walked around it surveying the damage.

"It's cooked. Sorry Dom, but I think pretty much everything here is going to have to be replaced."

"But why? Who would do something like this?"

"The only purpose this serves is in keeping us from finishing that job today. Until it's repaired we could use the other one, if String ever shows up with it that is. Unless…. unless I wasn't supposed to get it down in one piece. The intent could have been to take out whoever was flying. And where is String? You haven't heard from him yet, have you?"

"Still nothing. I tried radioing him at the cabin and in the Jet Ranger, but didn't get any answer either place."

"You think something happened?"

"It'd be quite a coincidence for both of you to have problems with two separate choppers that both worked fine yesterday."

"Yeah. Some coincidence."

\A/

Chance now lay in the hospital bed resting fitfully. He squirmed and rolled back and forth, appearing little more at ease than he had been at the cabin.

How'd this happen? Could it be something he'd carried home somehow? Had there been a whole other side to his torturous drugging a few weeks back? He had spent most of his time there unconscious or in too much pain to think clearly and could have missed it. But why hadn't he noticed the seriousness until now? And why was Chance the only one affected? Maybe it was just something he'd caught, but if so, where? He hadn't been anywhere other than the cabin and the hangar recently and no one else showed any signs of being sick, and definitely nothing to this extreme.

Hawke watched the slightly irregular rise and fall of his chest as he took in and exhaled every breath while Caitlin stroked sweat-dampened blond locks of hair and listened to his nearly inaudible murmuring.

"He'll be alright," he thought he heard her whisper, "he's a fighter just like you."

Of course he'd be alright, he couldn't imagine anything other than a full recovery, didn't want to, but how had he gotten so sick in the first place? What could he do to prevent it from happening again? He didn't think it was anything you just catch like the flu or a cold; it was much more serious than that, but what else could it be?

Caitlin's moist hazel eyes met his worried blue ones for a brief moment before she saw them widen in alarm as he rushed past her out the door. Startled by his sudden exit, she looked back down at the sleeping toddler once more. He wasn't breathing.

\A/

"Santini Air to the cabin, anyone there? String? Cait? It's Saint John," he radioed. "Still nothing, Dom."

"That's what worries me."

"I'm going down the strip to pick up those parts we needed, how about I see if we can borrow a chopper and take it out to the cabin ourselves too?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me. I'll close up here and be ready by the time you get back."

Saint John nodded and disappeared in the jeep down the road.

Fifteen minutes later he returned with a borrowed Hughes 500 from Angelo's Custom Paints, not bothering to power it down while he ran inside to get Dom.

The two men came running out only a minute later, Saint John taking the pilot's seat and flinging them skyward in the direction of the cabin.

As it came into view, both quickly noted the absence of the red, white, and blue Jet Ranger that should have been on the dock. In silence they landed in the empty space, shut down the copter, and climbed out, walking up the path to the cabin.

Inside it looked no less abandoned, half cooked pancakes still waiting on the stove and unused place settings on the table. There was a blanket and pillow on the sofa, indicating somewhere had slept there recently, but nobody was in sight. Finally Tet padded quietly down the stairs past them and out the open front door to take temporary residence on the dock.

"I'd say they were in a hurry," Saint John mused aloud, "obviously something they hadn't planned for."

Dominic continued investigating the kitchen, the only thing unusual he came across being an opened bottle of children's cough syrup on the counter while Saint John perused the living room to find the source of the rank odor that filled the air.

"Find anything?"

"Uh, yeah actually. What about you?"

"Just a bottle of children's cough syrup."

"_Children's_?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I think something's wrong with Chance."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

**4:45pm**

**Santini Air Hangar**

Le van Hawke dropped his backpack by the door and felt under the mat for the key. Finding it, he unlocked the door and let himself into the dark hangar. He flicked on the light and went to find himself a snack, not unaccustomed to walking into the empty hangar. Didn't know they had a job this afternoon, he mused to himself, oh well, maybe it was a last minute thing. He poured himself a cup of juice and found a package of trail mix, taking it with him back to the office where he proceeded to watch tv while instead of doing his homework. It could wait he decided, if they were this late, chances were it'd be a while before it was time to go home.

\A/

"It's highly contagious and if we don't keep a careful eye on it, obviously can be fatal I think it's in everyone's best interest to not allow any visitors at this time until his condition is a bit more stable. I f anyone carrying any other harmful illness, even someone not yet showing symptoms, it could be enough to put him over the edge. I understand it's difficult, but it's probably best this way.

Still whiteface from the latest scare, Caitlin blanched even more if that was possible, Hawke wrapping a supporting arm around her waist to keep her from falling in the floor as she wavered slightly. "W-whatever's best," she finally managed to whisper.

Hawke started to object, adamant it was **not **ok, and that their son needed them, _they needed him,_ but stopped short. It would ease a lot of pain at the moment to be able to see him, but the doctor had his reasonings for ordering complete a quarantine and within a day or two hopefully he would be well enough to move back to the previous arrangements. He was a Hawke, a fighter, he'd make it through, he had to.

"There is a little window you can see him through," the pediatric doctor added. "I know it's not the same, but I'm afraid it's all I have to offer."

"Thanks," Caitlin said appreciatively, blinking back tears and sinking onto the bench behind her. "We appreciate it, really we do."

Saint John and Dominic came hurrying down the hallway, coming to a stop at the occupied bench just outside the room, Chance nowhere in sight.

Damn, Dom though, wishing their fears hadn't been as well founded. Unfortunately it appeared they were. "He's alright isn't he?"

"No Dom, not really."

"He's-"

"He's sick, really sick. I don't know how I missed it for so long… Later this morning I had been planning to take him to see his pediatrician, but while Cait was fixing breakfast he started coughing so much he could hardly breath and his fever spiked. By the time I made it to the chopper, he was seizing… I suddenly had the terrible though that he might not make it. We did, but things haven't really improved. A couple hours ago he quit breathing." he finished, now on the verge of breaking down himself.

"Q-quit breathing?"

Hawke nodded, tear drops starting to roll down his cheek. "Doctors have him stable, for now… quarantined though."

He searched for the right words to say, something to give them hope and encouragement, but could find none. Finally he conceded that maybe there just weren't any words to be said and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder as he drew in a shuddering breath, tears moistening his own eyes and flowing generously down his face.

\A/

_Barely managing to stay in the air, the usually graceful helicopter shook violently, fuselage riddled with gunfire and dented, and a considerable amount of smoke pouring from the rear end. The landing gear, or what was left of it, came down as the Wolf limped in the final few hundred yards._

_Inside, her single crewmember was doing little better, battle scared and wounded. Far from what was normally considered appropriate for a funeral, he though dejectedly, from the father of all people, but this was something he couldn't miss, his last chance to say goodbye. At the moment he wasn't so sure he'd make it himself, not sure he wanted to anyway. He removed his hand from his wounded stomach , releasing the pressure against it, and another rush of sticky red blood gushed out, further staining the tattered grey flight suit that clung to his singed skin. If Dom could only see the cockpit now he wouldn't have to worry about dying he though half humouredly, that was if Dom ever managed to get past the mutilated outside._

_Suddenly feeling lightheaded, he saw the pallbearers carry out the polished wooden casket, another painful blow. He couldn't handle this, it was just too much for one man to bear, physically or emotionally._

_The pallbearers and the rest of the funeral procession walked past just outside Airwolf as he fought with the door, desperately clawing at it trying to get free, but his numb fingers slid from the door, only succeeding in dirtying it even more. No one seemed to notice._

_Finally he escaped the confine of the cockpit, only to collapse at his first step. People continued to walk by, oblivious to his pain filled cried as he gasped for breath. No one seemed to care._

"_We are gathered here today to remember…." the priest began._

"_No, no, no…" he called out, his voice only coming out in a cracked whisper._

_Out of nowhere, two men came behind him with a stretcher, strong arms lifting him towards it, towards safety and shelter, and away from all this pain, the daggers of pain, guilt, and anguish stabbing him and raking through a body that couldn't take any more. But he fought for it, to keep the agony for a few more minutes in exchange for being able to say a final goodbye._

"_No!" he yelled, breaking free from their grip. "No, I have to see my son… I need to…"_

_He fell, hitting the ground hard and unable to get to his feet again. Crawling across the dirt turned mud in the rain miserably, he approached the casket, unaware of the many curious and appalled eyes watching him. He raised a shaking hand as it to stroke the fine grained wood as he might have the short blond fringe of the three year old, but the powerful arms lifted him up again towards the stretched and waiting ambulance, amazed he hadn't bled to death already by the steady stream he was leaving behind him wherever he went alone. He protested the whole way, every breath getting harder to take as shovelfuls of dirt covered the casket._

"_No!" he cried, blood and teas mingling, "Chance…… Chance….."_


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

"Chance…. Chance…"

Startled awake by his own voice, Hawke sat bolt upright in the bed, sweat drench and not even finding reality much of a comfort. Most of the time, these nightmares could be countered with practicality - he was no longer in Vietnam, so any dreams there weren't likely to have any relevance with his current life. Michael had been known to assign sometimes very dangerous missions with little warning though, and with Chance's life hanging in limo at the moment it was too close to what could be the truth to be defeated by practicality and logic. He could be gone at this very moment. He wanted to believe that wasn't the case, that he'd know if it were, but it was possible. Could his dream have been a premonition of the tragedy about to occur?

Slowly leaning back against the pillows, he drew in a deep breath and tried to convince himself everything would turn out alright.

"_It has been officially confirmed. Stringfellow Hawke, you and I are going to have our own little family."_

_String almost dropped the box he'd been holding. "Huh? How did you know?" he asked confused. "I guess that at least means the answer is yes."_

_She took the little box he handed her. "How did I know? I kind of have to know; I just couldn't believe it." She fingered the small gift, finally ripping off the elegant paper in fine chunks. It was a soft maroon and gold velvet box. She had only opened it a crack, when she saw what __he__ meant. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly before planting a kiss on his lips. "Of course, I mean yes!"_

_String picked up the box from the sofa next to her. "May I?'_

"_Please do."_

_He took out the shiny white gold band with an exquisitely cut diamond and slipped it gently onto her finger, despite his shaking hands._

"_Of course I will, but that's not what I meant."_

"_It's not?" asked Hawke, getting more confused by the minute._

"_No,"_

"_Then what did you mean?"_

"_I'm going to have a baby, and you're the daddy."_

_Daddy. Stunned, he sucked in a harsh breath. It kind of excited him and scared him at the same time. He wanted to be a good father; he wanted a family with Caitlin, but it still came as a shock to him. His only two other chances had been taken away from him._

_

* * *

  
_

_In the other room it didn't sound like chance was sleeping any better, begging to be let out. He obliged, carrying him out of the bedroom and down the stairs. "You're too young to be getting nightmare," he scolded teasingly. "Couldn't you inherit something better from me?"_

_Chance simply slung both arms around his neck and hung on as they descended the stairs.

* * *

_

_Chance waved his bacon, contemplated whether or not he should eat it, took a bite, then dropped the remainder which Tet quickly took care of._

"_Oh boy, looks like we're raising another fish and veggies boy," Caitlin remarked. "He really is a miniature you."

* * *

_

_His eyes met her, - most hazel ones filled with fear and concern - and he went to move toward her to offer what comfort he could. Yes he was concerned, but Chance would be alright. He had to be. He was a Hawke, an with Caitlin always going about how in so many ways he resembled him, he ought to have inherited a little perseverance and determination. Caitlin had plenty of her own too, so if not from him then her, either way he wouldn't be one to give in easily. Even at three, he'd already been through a lot, and would most likely have plenty more challenges in his lifetime, and that's all this would be - another challenge._

_He took a step forward, happening to glance down at his only child once more as he did so. Fear and alarm suddenly raced through him. He wasn't breathing. Rushing past his wife and out of the room, he went to get the first doctor he could find, praying it wouldn't be too late._

\A/

No wind, clear night, perfect. His only obstacles were the glass window and the distance at which he had had to go to find the right angle. Positioning the M40A1 sniper rifle, he aligned it, rechecking all his previous measurements, and pulled the trigger.

\A/

"_No, Dom, not really. He's sick, really sick. A couple hours ago he quit breathing…"_

He startled upright again, almost right out of the bed and into the floor, just as the bullet shattered the window and embedded itself in his pillow. Instinctively ducking to the floor, he flattened himself to the ground, adrenalin already pumping through his veins.

Caitlin.

He cautiously stole a glance up at the bed again, at first relived to see she wasn't there, but soon followed by a feeling of dread. If she wasn't there, where was she?

Slipping carefully back up to the bed, he grabbed the gun from underneath his pillow in case it was needed, all the while knowing he had the disadvantage. He was already the one on the defensive, couldn't shoot as far, and had no clue where his wife was and would prefer not to reek too much havoc on his home while it was open season for whoever was after him, no worried about what was hit and too far away to worry about being hit, all he had to do was take out his target.

Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, he made his way toward Chance's room, for once happy he wasn't here at the moment. What if he never made it back though? No time for that, he scolded himself. Chance would be fine, end of story. Right now he had to find Caitlin.

Chance's room was clear. He crept towards the stair case. Spotting Caitlin at the base, evidently intending on running upstairs until she saw him. "What's going on? I heard the-"

"Get down," he interrupted, shielding her with his own body as he guided her quickly back down the stairs. "Sniper outside," he explained, not wasting time with words, "stay down."

"What're we going to do?"

"Still thinking." He had an idea, but would rather not risk it, especially the leaving Caitlin part, but he couldn't risk taking her either.

"I haven't heard anything in a few minutes, maybe they left."

"I wouldn't count on it. He's probably setting up for another shot. Now is as good a time as ever though…"

"Good as ever for what?"

"Listen, I need you to hide, and good, because you can't leave until this is all over. I'm gong to take the chopper out so he thinks "we've left. Once he leave everything will be fine."

"You can't!"

"Cait, I have to."

"You'll be a perfect target while you're waiting for lift off, you'll never make it."

"We don't have any other options; it's a chance I have to take."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"It's too dangerous. You stay here and I'll be back for you. Promise."

"What if you don't ever make it off the dock?"

"I will."

"What about while you're gone? I'm already loosing a son right now, I don't want to lose you too."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"Target missed." He knew Hawke had his battle sometimes with nightmares, but who knew they had such good timing?

"Then try again; I need Hawke out of the way. For good."

Abandoning the sniper idea, he set off with an M-16 instead, sneaking up towards the cabin for a closer shot.

\A/

"You're not going to lose me. We're all going to make it."

"Then figure out someway to do it from here because I'm going to be right by your side the whole way."

"Anyone ever tell you you're too darn stubborn for you own good?"

"Yeah, and I've got nothing on you."

He sighed, half smiling, and silently admitting she was probably right, and that wasn't necessarily such a good thing.

"Alright, I can't afford to have you against me too. We have to stay under cover, but preferably not get the cabin destroyed in the process. So if we can safely get out of here and draw him away that would be best. The police wouldn't be able to get here soon enough to do us any good, and neither will anyone else, so it looks like we're on own. Kill or be killed."

Caitlin nodded in understanding. "Ok, I got it. Now you got a plan on how we're going to do that?"

"Still working on that. First off, you need to be armed."

"Taken care of, I grabbed the rifle when I heard the window break upstairs."

"Good. No you take the back of the house and I'll take the front. You see him, you shoot him, no hesitations and stay where you aren't visible."

"I can handle it; you be careful too though. And no funny stuff, otherwise knowing you, you'd intentionally give away your position so he comes after you instead of me."

"No funny stuff," he agreed. "You wanted in on the action, so now you've got it."

\A/

"Approaching target. I've got some movement going on inside. No moving, radio silent." The shadowy sniper crouched down into the shrub and crawled across the ground, repositioning his night vision goggles in search of his target.

Was that two people? He took a second look, but now found no one. Maybe it was. After all, Hawke did have a wife and child now, it wouldn't be that unlikely. A child, he remembered, Chance Hawke, and he was about to kill his father and anyone else that might be in the way, eventually maybe even the kid himself. How had he drifted this far - murdering for money? Yeah, it paid well, very well actually, but at what cost? He couldn't just 'quit' though. I f he did, he'd be dead himself before he could finish the sentence.

No, no, no. This was all wrong. He didn't think about it, he just did it. Sight, aim, pull trigger, confirm kill - those were the four things, the only four things he was supposed to do, all this second guessing had to stop.

That was Hawke, had to be, just beyond his hiding place about fifty feet ahead by the slightly cracked open green front door. Carefully moving into position so not to give away with location, he lined up for the shot.

\A/

Stepping silently across the packed dirt pathway, Caitlin walked toward the front of the cabin where she though she had seen their attacker flee. Or was he in pursuit?

There he was, she though, amazed she had actually managed to find him.

Four shots rang out almost simultaneously, one towards the cabin where Hawke fired back, and one towards the sniper from behind. The sniper had turned, one of the bullets, caught his shoulder and let off a round toward Caitlin then disappeared into the darkness.

Hawke, only now realizing Caitlin was out there, rushed out, heading for. "You alright?"

"It's just a graze. And _I _actually mean that, barely nicked me. He got away though."

"He was hit though; maybe that'll make him think twice before coming back."

"I sure hope so. What even happened up there? I just heard the glass shattering and was going to see what it was."

"Nightmare…"

"And you what, threw a pillow through the window?"

"No, the nightmare saved my life; I just hope it wasn't at the cost of Chance's."

\A/

**9:20 am**

**Knightsbridge**

"What do you want me to do Hawke? Any protection I could offer you you don't like. I have no idea who might be after you, and quite frankly I've been busy doing all I can just to keep the rest of the Committee from trying to arrest you for treason and end the Airwolf program for good. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure there is much more I can do."

"There's got to be something."

"If you're afraid the cabin isn't safe, stay at the hangar, or sleep on the couch at your brother's of Santini's for a while until the danger is past. If your life is in danger, I'm sure they'd probably manage to fit you in somewhere. Or can they not handle having a three year old running rampant in their homes? I'd think he's got to be pretty well behaved for you to leave your priceless Stradivarius and art collection within his reach."

"Chance isn't the problem, he's in the hospital."

"He's… why?"

Hawke shook his head. "Don't know. He isn't doing very well though, quit breathing on his own twice yesterday."

"Is he going to be alright?" Michael asked, now genuinely concerned.

"He's quarantined; doctors don't know much else they can do."

"I'm sorry, Hawke."

"It's not your fault. It's just, it's like someone's trying to wipeout the whole family. Saint John had a near miss at the studio, Chance is suddenly sick, then a sniper comes to visit Cait and I last night.

Chance could have gotten sick for any number of reasons, and Saint John could have made a mistake or not done a thorough preflight check. I'm not saying it was all his fault, and taking into account the howl sniper incident, somebody is after you or Caitlin at least, but that doesn't mean they're trying to take out the entire family. I could be a coincidence."

"There's no such thing."


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

"No visible improvements so far," the doctor informed them, "but at least he doesn't appear to be getting much worse."

"Much?! If he gets _much _worse he'll be dead, he's barely hanging on as it is! The only reason I'm not demanding you let me in to see him or threatening to break down the door myself is because you so adamantly assure us you're doing the best thing for him, so he can recover more quickly. So why aren't we seeing any improvement?" he railed.

"String," Caitlin said, laying a restraining hand on his shoulder, "it's ok."

"No, it' not ok. We have a right to see you son."

"Come on, String, we'll come back later," she said, pulling him away and guiding him down the hall.

He could have easily pulled his arm away from her grip, but chose to give in for her sake, at least for the moment.

"What gives, Cait?" he demanded once thee were back to the jeep. "Don't you care if you ever get to see him again?"

"It's not that," she replied, silently starting up the engine and driving back in the direction of the hangar.

"Then what is it?"

Caitlin remained quiet, intentionally over concentrating on the road.

"Caitlin."

The redhead continued to ignore him as she pulled into a parking space outside the hangar and climbed out, slamming the door shut behind her. He followed her to the Jet Ranger, thankful for the few seconds of took for the rotors to gain enough lift, knowing that otherwise he would have been long left behind.

"What did I do, Cait?" he asked again, starting to get irritated.

"It really shouldn't be anything and I know it, but it is."

"What is?"

"Just let me focus on flying please. We can talk about this later."

\A/

Coming up the stairs, he spotted Caitlin right where he thought she might be. Sitting down beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, snuggling her to him. "Are we ok?"

"Yeah," she answered hoarsely, finding it more difficult than she ever would have believed possible to say that single word. "We'll get through it."

"You want to tell me what I did then?"

"Not really," she admitted.

"Please? If nothing else, so I don't do it again."

"It shouldn't be anything. It's just, I know how you feel, I've been through the same thing before when you had gone off to England after Chrissy Moffet. I remember watching you slip away right in front of me and there not being a thing in the world I could do to change it. Chance had a lot more faith I'm afraid. That was his first word, you know - Daddy. I kept thinking I wasn't sure if I could do it alone, but he has about as much tendency to listen to the doctors as you do. I could see you getting worse, the doctors had already had to restart your heart once, figured you were within a few hours… but Chance insisted you'd be ok… Now it's like the same thing all over again, only him instead of you." She buried her face against his chest, tears falling generously. "I know I can't do it alone, I'm just not sure I can do it at all…"

"Shh, we'll get through it," he soothed. "At the end of that story I made it, didn't I? Why then should he be any different? You know me, and I just got a little impatient back there, but it'll turn out alright in the end," he said, pulling her closer to him and planting a soft, reassuring kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry. I fit's just a virus like they said, he should start showing signs of improvement soon, and at least it is just a virus, not some mysterious slow acting poison no one even knew existed until then."

"I guess you're probably right," Caitlin conceded, "you sure better be."

"Of course I'm right; when have I ever lied to you?"

"Well there was a certain offer you made last time you were playing hooky and making me go do all you work at the hangar that you have still yet to fulfill."

"Oh? What offer might that have been?"

"You don't remember? We were sitting down to breakfast, Chance had just dropped his bacon in the floor and I made the comment about raising another fish and veggie boy…"

"Oh, _that _offer. You know, you have the strangest ways of changing the subject, but maybe I _can _see what I can do about filling my end of the deal…"

\A/

Le sat quietly next to Saint John in the car, debating how he was supposed to tell him his news from school. He wouldn't like it, but he had to be told just the same.

"Everything? You're awfully quiet today."

"Someone was at the school today; he came and talked to me about you."

"What'd he say?"

"He said… he said you'd better watch out because someone was out to get you, me, all the Hawkes."

"Do you know who it was?"

Le shook his head, "Said he didn't know where to find you, but he found me through the school. He asked if I knew Saint John Hawke and I said yes. He thinks you might remember him from Germany. He gave me some funny name, can't remember what it was and that a bunch of people had gotten away and described a helicopter he saw that helped them. He said you got in it and left, but the guy who had been in charge got really mad and vowed he'd get whoever destroyed his camp and took his prisoners."

"Anything else?" Saint John queried, his interest sparked.

"I don't think so. He kind of left all of the sudden, like he wasn't supposed to be there. One more thing though, he gave me a note." Le searched through his backpack until he finally pulled out a wrinkled piece of scratch paper with some numbers scrawled across it. "He said to give this to you."

Saint John pulled into an empty parking spot and shifted into park, taking the note and reading it for himself. What could it all mean? Germany? The helicopter? Prisoners? And now a string of numbers? How did it all fit together?

"Seven, seven, seven, and forty nine….. Seven, seven, seven is supposed to be lucky triple sevens and forty nine is… That's it! Lucky, his number was 777 in Germany. Asgar Fleischer is after me and my family because we escaped, nearly killing him in the process I guess. I would think it would have killed him for sure, but evidently not."

"What are you talking about?" Le asked, now finding himself even more confused.

"When I was held in Germany, one of my cellmates had three sevens tattooed on his arm by a previous warlord in Laos because he was the seven hundred seventy seventh prisoner, but he liked to think of them as lucky sevens because he was one of the few who had survived. Forty nine is the German international code, meaning he's talking about our time in Germany. Fleischer must have been the name you were talking about, the one who was in charge there. And he's coming after the Hawke family because it was them who helped me, another Hawke, and all the other prisoners escape."


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

"So you think your German captor from over three years ago has suddenly decided to seek revenge against you and your family for escaping, from a string of numbers? Don't you think that' stretching things just a little?"

"I think it's possible. Somebody's after us, that much is for sure, and this makes as much sense as anything does."

"So what are you going to do about it? If it is true, you don't know where Ansagar Fleischer is or what he's planning. The Committee is trying to cut funding to the Airwolf project as it is, and I don't think flying all over the place in a random search for someone who might be after you is a very wise choice of using the resources you do have."

"What do you want me to do, Michael? Sit on my hands and wait for him to wipe out the entire family? That wouldn't be very beneficial for you either considering we're the only ones who know where Airwolf is. How much are they planning on cutting the budget anyway?"

"Cutting it off, everything. And I can understand what you're talking about, already went through all this with your brother after they had the sniper visit them at the cabin, but same as I told him, I can't do much until we know for sure who it is."

"Whoa, what is this about a sniper?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Does it look like he told me? He and Cait are up there right now. I don't believe this," he said, rolling his eyes as he got up in a huff and strode towards the door. "I just don't believe this."

"Saint John," Michael called after him, "wait a minute."

"No Michael, you told me yourself there isn't anything you can do. Just keep the Committee from killing the Airwolf project and we'll worry about not getting the whole family killed off."

\A/

"Visitors."

"Yeah, not that best timing either."

"You can say that again."

"Terrible timing actually," he said, kissing her on the lips once more, "but I guess I had better see who it is." He slid off the bed, tucking the .45 into his waistband and making his way down the stairs as the chopper outside came to a rest on the dock.

Long stride carrying him easily to the door, Saint John threw it opened, not knowing which to be more angry at - Michael for not telling him, or String for going back out here.

"Can I help you with something?" his brother asked coolly.

"You just trying to get yourself killed, or am I interrupting something?"

"Yeah. Actually, you are."

"Why didn't you tell me? Michael, but not me? And now you come back to the cabin; what would you want to come for, what could be worth risking your lives for?"

"Personally, I don't think it's any of your business, and even if it were, Michael had a good point. We at least wounded the sniper, and honestly I don't think we'd be much safer elsewhere. Whoever's after us knows about it all except perhaps where the Lady is hidden. If that is the case, why not be a little more comfortable at the cabin rather than sleeping on a cot or sofa until we figure out who it is and take care of the problem. Cait and I went up to the hospital this morning and needed to talk afterwards. I _thought _the cabin would offer a little more privacy."

That's another thing, you brought Cait. I can understand, to a point, what you mean about…" he finally realized what his brother was _really _talking about, and that this was neither the time nor the place. "I have a hunch on who it might be."

"You want to share since you're already here?"

"Might as well."

"I'll go get Cait then."

"Wait, why don't you relay the message later? I tell you and leave you two alone, Le and Josh will be wanting dinner and I was going to visit Ellie tonight again if I got the chance."

"Fine, what've you got?"

"I think it's Ansagar Fleischer, my captor from East Germany…"

\A/

"You're finally back. I'd about decided I was going to have to send out a search part."

"For a minute there I was hoping you would, but he does have a good point, and he thinks he might have a clue what's going on."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, actually you'd probably know more about it though, considering I was in the hospital about to flake out at the time."

"Which time?" she teased.

"When you went to get Saint John out, the explosion that nearly killed Dom and I."

"But I though that was Horn, we already took care of him."

"We did, not the explosion though, Saint John's captors, Ansagar Fleischer, wants revenge because his prisoners got away. Why it has taken almost four years to happen, I don't know, but he plans to take out the entire family evidently. Problems is, we still don't know where he is and he obviously knows exactly where we are."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Wait. And next time he tries something we show him who he's messing with."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

"Why is this this so hard? Why must I do everything myself?"

"Sir," Adelino said, rubbing his still sore shoulder were he had been shot, "He got lucky, that's all I can say. I've worked for you before, you said yourself I was a good shot. This Stringfellow Hawke guy obviously has more than a suped up copter on his side."

"What's your excuse with his older brother then?" Ansagar asked irritably.

"Better pilot than I figured on, I was trying to make it look like an accident, not kill everyone on the set."

"And you said the kid is taken care of?"

"Yes sir, he _happened _ to get sick at a very opportune time, kid's barely hanging on at all, and when his tired little lungs finally give out there's a good possibility it'll take out at least one other member of the family along with him."

"Good. I anxiously await you reporting to me this has finally happened. What about the wife and those other kids?"

"Caitlin, the wife, is already about to have a breakdown, she shouldn't be hard to take care of. And the other two, they're just fifteen and six, how hard can it be?"

"Just don't underestimate anyone else." Ansagar warned. "By now they undoubtedly know something is going on, and I don't want them alive long enough to find out what."

\A/

Le took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, dreading his father coming home tonight. He wouldn't be happy, he couldn't blame him, but that wasn't going to make this anymore pleasant. At least he didn't have any homework tonight, he though humorlessly, dropping his backpack just inside the door. Maybe he should just lock himself in his room now since that was where he'd be spending the next three years of his life anyway. He left the despised slip of paper on the kitchen counter, deciding it would be better for him to find it when he first walked in rather than when the principal would call later tonight. Grabbing the opened back of nearly stale potato chips, he headed out for the balcony, opting to make the most out of the last sunlight he would be seeing in a while.

What he hadn't been expecting was Joshua sliding the door open, followed by Saint John.

"Something you want to explain? Like perhaps how you managed to get yourself expelled?"

"It's a long story."

"And it better be a good one."

"You remember Matthew, the kid I supposedly got in a fight with at school last week. Well, we got into a little argument and people started taking his side. There was a food fight… I left the cafeteria, but Mattie was there waiting."

"And?" Saint John prodded.

"And he started swinging at me, called me a liar and a thief and fought back, a little too much," he added quietly.

"How much is a little too much?" Saint John asked, pinning him with an accusatory stare.

"I broke his nose… and his arm…."

"What was this whole thing about? What could be so important for you to get yourself into a mess like this?"

"He says I stole his pen," Le answered almost inaudibly.

"His pen?! You got expelled over a lousy twenty-five cent pen?!"

"Yeah," Le replied sheepishly. "He said I'd been causing trouble too long and this was another step beyond the lone I crossed a long time ago."

\A/

**Early the Next Morning**

**The Hangar**

String entered the office, closing the door behind him and sitting in a chair across from his older brother. "You said you needed to talk?"

"First off, I want to apologize for barging in yesterday, for anything I might have interrupted. Secondly, I need to ask your advice."

"My advice?"

"Yeah, about the whole parenting thing in general."

"I can't recall my parenting advice being much sought after, especially considering I have a child in the hospital, probably just because I was too stubborn to take him to the doctor when he first got sick, but if you really want my advice… I'll see what I can do."

"Joshua is starting to feel a little more at home in my apartment, and I'm glad for that, but sometimes I just don't know what to do with him. I don't even know what he likes, he spends more time with Le than anyone else, and at the moment that's an influence I'm not sure I want to rub off. I know everyone has been a little stressed lately, but the dean was right, this wouldn't be the first time he's gotten in trouble, and he got expelled yesterday - over a pen no less."

"A pen? As in the thing you write with?"

"One and the same. It's a long story and I'd rather not have to explain."

"Alright, I don't know how my advice will be, but take it for what it's worth. Try spending a little more time with Josh, see what he like, if nothing else, make it a game and interview him. I'll leave you to come up with your own way of dealing with Le, but while he lived with me I found he could be pretty amiable, but he's a bit restless and doesn't like a whole lot of routine, why don't you let Cait and I take him for a couple days, maybe a week, give you two a little time a part and some time to think."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, but I shouldn't be pawning off my problems on you."

"It's no problem, besides, I'm sure we could find plenty of work to keep him busy, and the cabin is a bit only without Chance there."

"I might just take you up on that offer then. How is Chance anyway? I was meaning to run by the hospital this morning and see him, perhaps drop by Ellie's room before I left, but things were a little hectic."

"He's doing…. Well, he's not any worse. Not much better either though. We're hoping whatever it is has just about run its course and should start clearing up anytime now though. Any new news on Ellie?"

"No, the doctors aren't holding out a lot of hope I don't think, but… I don't know. Maybe, I mean she might still come out of it, it is still possible."

"I hope she does, Sinj, I hope she does for both of you."

\A/

"I think she's finally all patched up," Dom said, spinning the tail rotor in satisfaction. "Should be good to go."

"You gonna take her up then? Because I don't want to, then have you blaming me when it has to be towed in again," Saint John teased.

"Good as gold."

"It better be. Looks like there's a charter upstate one of us needs to take tomorrow. Any volunteers?"

"String and Cait have a kid in the hospital, and I know you have plenty going on too, so I think it's best if I take this one."

"You sure Dom? I know it hasn't really been any easier on you than it has on the rest of us."

"It's part of running a business, kid. Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to - part of business, part of life."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, you guys don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone; I know how you like to do that."

"We won't, at least not unless it comes looking for us," Saint John added in a lighter tone.

"It must run in your blood, that's all I can say."

"Any time, any place - if there's trouble you can find us there."


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Juggling two heavy brown paper bags and rifling in her pocket for the keys to the jeep, Caitlin finally found them, locked the vehicle, and headed for the hangar.

"Hey guys," she called, pounding against the door, "let me in will ya."

No answer.

"Hmph," she sighed, setting the bags down, "Can't even open the door for a girl anymore."

She let herself in and somehow managed to carry in the food without dropping it all over the recently swept ground and to the counter.

"I'm back," she called out.

Nothing.

"I brought food." If anything would bring them that would. But still the hangar remained silent. "Is anyone even here?"

Setting their lunch on the counter, she walked towards the back to see if anyone was there. Nobody in the office. She continued around the back, coming around the corner just in time to see a white limo disappearing down thee road.

So much for lunch, she thought, but what was it Michael could want? And why hadn't anyone bothered to tell her?

\A/

"Aunt Cait? Why're you picking me up?" Joshua queried as he climbed into the car.

"Saint John was busy," she answered vaguely, still trying to figure out herself where they might have gone.

"What's he doing?"

Trust the six year old to want to play twenty questions when she had zero answers. "I don't know, honey. When we get back I'll make a couple phone calls and see if I can figure it out, okay?"

Michael himself picked up the phone, greeting her with an exasperated tone. Caitlin hesitated a moment; she'd been expecting Marella or one of his other assistants to answer, but figuring she might as well take advantage of getting him first hand. "What did you want Saint John and String for? Everyone just kind of left me and three kids without even bothering to tell me they were leaving, much less where they were going or why."

"What did I want them for? Why would you think I wanted them?"

"Stop avoiding the question Michael. I saw the limo leaving the hangar."

"It wasn't me."

"I saw-"

"I'm not denying what you saw, but it wasn't me. I've been stuck in meetings battling the whole committee all morning."

"But, if it wasn't you, who was it?"

\A/

"String," Saint John whispered, "that isn't him."

"You sure?"

He nodded. "I thought he was the guy, but he's too young."

"Obviously he doesn't care for us much either."

"Are you two talking? I do believe I told you to stay quiet," the driver warned. "I suggest you do as I asked, for your own sakes."

"He could be working for Ansagar."

"He tended to do things himself, well at least on the business end."

The driver slammed on the brakes, sending brothers flying into the seats in front of them.

"I said stop with all the damn talking! If I have to tell you again, you won't have to worry about getting any further because I'll send this car flying off the edge of a cliff. And no, I'm not afraid of dying to finish this. You two though, and rest of your family, must be wiped off the planet, permanently."

\A/

Caitlin turned the light out and sat down on the couch to think. She had opted to stay at Saint John's apartment, figuring it would be easier on the kids to be in more familiar surroundings. Because they've never been to the cabin before, she though sarcastically, and they don't know where anything is. Honestly, they'd be just as comfortable at the cabin and she knew it, but she'd be closer to any action here, and as soon as something happened she wanted to be the first to know about it.

Le walked back into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, sipping it as he walked into the living room and joined Caitlin. "Where is he really?"

"Who Saint John?"

"Yeah."

"I'm afraid I have no clue, Le."

"No clue?" Le repeated skeptically. "Not even an idea?"

"All I saw was a white limo driving off from the hangar when I returned from getting lunch. I assumed Michael wanted them for something, but he's either lying or it wasn't him. And I'm leaning towards it wasn't him."

\A/

The car screeched to a halt, once again slamming the two men into the seats. "Out now," the driver now known as Dirk ordered. "I've had enough of you. We're going to end this now. You think you can take that big helicopter and scare us, blow up anything in your way. Well you can't. We fought to get those men, and you think you can just come in and destroy everything. You killed my father. You killed my mother and sister, and they didn't even do anything to you. Now you, you and your whole family will pay, Saint John Hawke. He upholstered his 9mm and gestured towards the unscalable rock backdrop. "Which one of you wants to be first?"

Saint John started to take a step forward but his younger brother stepped in front of him. "Me."

Dirk looked nearly as surprised as Saint John, but he made no effort to conceal it. "Sad, you make your own brother take the punishment first, but then, you always did like to try taking the easy way out didn't you? No problem though, you'll get the same treatment."

"No, you've got it all wrong. He wasn't-"

"Sinj," String shot him a warning look. "No."

"But he wasn't even there. He was back in the hospital in California, nearly died, nowhere near you or your family."

"Is this true?" Dirk asked inquisitively. "It wasn't you flying the monster helicopter?"

"No, he doesn't remember - years of captivity does that you know. Memories all jumbled, didn't even remember that he had a son." Well, only part of that was a lie, he just wished he had some way to keep Sinj quiet; he appreciated the thought, but the likelihood of it actually helping wasn't that great.

"Fine. Over there - now!"

"Wait. Can I have a minute - to say goodbye?"

"I never got that chance, why should I let you?" Get over there and let's get this over with."

The younger Hawke walked silently towards the slab of rock, keeping both eyes carefully on the gun. Dirk trained the 9mm on him, finger tightening on the trigger. "Goodbye to the first of the Hawkes."


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

Saint John launched himself toward Dirk Fleischer, but the henchman caught him before he could get there. Dirk spun around in time to see his security man hauling the struggling older brother away and let off a couple rounds. The first went wide, felling his muscular accomplice, but the second hit Saint John squarely in the chest, ending the struggle from him. String took advantage of the distraction and leapt toward Dirk, tackling him and pinning him to the ground while he wrestled the gun out of his hands and killed him with his own weapon. Once he was satisfied both mean were dead, he dropped to his knees by his brother's side.

"Sinj, talk to me."

He grunted in response. "You're a lot of trouble. I hope you know that."

"This is exactly what I was trying to avoid."

"By what? Getting yourself blown to pieces?"

"That wasn't quite the intent. This does answer the question of who was after us though."

"Yeah, hopefully the only ones."

"Better be, now let's get out of here. Can you walk?"

"Chyeah, no problem. Breathing on the other hand…."

He struggled to sit up, hand against the bleeding wound. "Did it go all the way through?"

"Looks like it. Come on, I'll help you up." He offered his hand which Saint John gratefully took and staggered to his feet.

"Thanks," he said appreciatively. "I think we're going to have to work on this communicating ideas thing though. I'd rather not get shot again."

"Understandable. In the meantime, let's get you patched up and figure out where the hell we are."

\A/

"All the more reason," the dark suit-clad woman concurred. "The Airwolf project is officially cut off until further notice, and Stringfellow and Saint John Hawke are to be found and report back in within thirty six hours or they'll be declared rogue."

"This meeting is adjourned."

Now this one would be a difficult one to get out of, Michael thought to himself. And where were the Hawke brothers anyways? As far as they were concerned, they didn't work for the FIRM, and therefore didn't _have _to report in regularly, but their connection with the FIRM was a strange one and it'd make everyone's lives much easier if they came in, problem was, he had to find them before he could bring them in.

"Marel…" he stopped midword, remembering his favored senior assistant had been transferred to Brazil, and sighed. It looked like he was on his own with this one. "Lauren, get the helicopter ready, we've got some errands to run."

\A/

After stopping by the Santini Air hangar and finding it empty, Michael had instructed Lauren to head on to the cabin, hoping he'd at least find Caitlin and the kids there. The skids of the all white helicopter touched down lightly and he climbed out even before his aid came to get the door.

As usual the front door was unlocked and he walked straight in, relieved to catch sight of the two boys playing in the living room. Caitlin appeared from the kitchen with two hot mugs of coffee, carrying them to the other two by the bar.

"See String, she' trying to keep us out of trouble - bringing us coffee so we'll stay out of the whisky."

"And she does make good coffee."

"But does it have the same pain relieving properties?" Saint John joked.

"If you're in that much pain maybe you should see a doctor," Caitlin suggested, still eying the two men with unbelief.

"Yeah," he replied, flinching away as String applied the gauze over the wound, "that probably wouldn't be an all bad idea, but it isn't that likely to happen either."

"How about a nurse?" Michael interjected, "Lauren is one you know."

"Thanks, but I think I've had enough poking and prodding for one day."

"You want to put this one yourself? It'd be a lot easier if you could hold still."

"It'd be a lot easier if I hadn't gotten myself shot, but I didn't realize I had a suicidal little brother."

He got a cold glare from the last comment.

"So things didn't go quite as planned, but-"

"But it's high time we move on. However it happened, you two have taken care of whoever was after us and things can get back to normal."

"Not quite normal I'm afraid," Michael warned. "The Committee has frozen the Airwolf program, maybe permanently, and they want you to come in for debriefing."

"But aren't you head of the Committee now? Between you and Marella you should be able to figure out some was to get around ending the project altogether."

"Technically head of the Committee, but now much has changed. If everyone else votes against it, there isn't anything I can do about it, and Marella's been transferred to Brazil. So it looks like you're confines to regular civilian life, at least for now."

"I don't know if I can do that, Michael; blowing things us is… stress relieving… and I've been doing it on a regular basis since I was seventeen."

"Yeah, some people just aren't cut out for that kind of like," Saint John rejoined.

From the look he gave him, Caitlin guessed Michael didn't appreciate his comment any more than he had String's.

"But you will get it up again eventually, right?"

"I certainly hope so, but I can't say anything for sure at the moment."

\A/

The Next Morning

"Hey String, wait up a sec!" Saint John yelled, raising his arm to signal his brother to come back, and just as quickly letting it down, forced to be the pain and stress it put on his injury. "String!"

The jeep jerked to a halt then a second later came quickly backward toward him.

"Yeah?"

"Can I catch a ride up to the hospital with you?"

"Just can't wait to see Chance until I return?" the younger brother teased.

"I just got a phone call from the hospital."

"And?

"Ellie's awake."


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

**Valley Trauma Center**

"That's great Sinj, looks like things are finally looking up for a change."

"I couldn't believe it, in a way still can't, I'm half afraid I'll walk in there and she will have slipped away again, or they got the wrong person."

"She'll be fine; I told you she would be."

"And I'll be ok because of you. Speaking of which, did I ever thank you for bringing her back from Italy?"

"Who said it was me?" the younger brother teased.

"Just a hunch."

"Well then you're welcome. I'll let you see her first if that's alright while I check Chance out, then we can barge in together."

"No problems there."

"One thing though."

"Yeah?"

"Not trying to dampen your enthusiasm, but try not to expect too much; she has been in a coma for nearly three months."

\A/

"Daddy! Daddy!" Chance called out excitedly.

"Hey buddy. You ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah, leave. Boring here."

"Can't blame you there," he agreed, hugging the child closer to him and letting out a relieved sigh. He looked _**so**_ much better he almost couldn't believe it. Only a week ago he was barely hanging on to his life, and now he was ready to go home, under supervision granted, but he didn't figure it was the wisest idea to leave a three year old with a penchant for trouble unsupervised for very long anyway. "You want to see Ellie and Uncle Saint John before we go?"

"Yeah! Mommy too?"

"Yeah, we'll see Mommy afterwards. Now come on, let's get out of here."

\A/

**The Cabin**

**6:38 pm**

**That Night**

"Delicious String, as usual," Dominic praised, taking another bite of spaghetti. Personally he thought some meatballs would have gone nicely, but the marinara sauce worked just as well. "So, you want to bring me up to speed? I heard it' been an eventful couple of days."

"Very," Saint John agreed, "but mostly in a good way."

"Well? What is it?"

"Sinj and I think we've taken care of the ones trying to wipe out the whole family."

"And Chance is out of the hospital - appears to be back to normal," Caitlin added.

"Le's enrolled in a new school and starts Monday," Saint John rejoined, "and String has offered to let him stay with him and Cait until then. Also Ellie Mae regained consciousness last night and the doctors are holding a pretty optimistic prognosis on her recovery."

"Sounds like things are pretty good then." He raised his glass of red wine, "a toast - to the family, to friends, and to life."


End file.
